


Shifting Shades of Sebastian Smythe

by fictocriticism



Series: Shifting Shades [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dalton Academy, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:31:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictocriticism/pseuds/fictocriticism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sebastian transfers to Dalton and doesn’t pay any attention to that hobbity kid, Blaine Anderson, until it’s too late. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifting Shades of Sebastian Smythe

**Author's Note:**

> This is for Nikki, who loves her Seblaine, and is a horrid enabler. Thanks to Alana for the cheerleading and read through. All remaining mistakes are mine.

When Sebastian first steps inside the halls of Dalton Academy, his heart sinks. The wooden panelling, the chandeliers -- all of it is opulent and he can feel his mother’s delight emanating from behind him. There’s no way he’s getting out of this school short of being expelled, and his mother has been very clear about that. If he wants to keep his car, he must stay in school. In fact, she actually threatened to leave him in Ohio when she goes back to Paris if he ends up in a public school. 

  
So he knows that this is the best chance he has at getting out of this god-forsaken state in the Midwest. The clock ticks over and the classroom doors open, blazer wearing boys pouring out of everywhere. The uniforms are boxy, unflattering shapes that don’t do enough to cover up the smell of teenage boy and Sebastian feels his mouth quirk up immediately. Just then, a boy bumps his shoulder as he rushes past and shouts out “Sorry!” with a wide, gregarious smile. _Ugh_ , Sebastian thinks. _This is going to be the worst_.    
  
His mother catches up with him at the top of an ornate staircase. It’s Friday afternoon, so classes have finished for the week. Sebastian has one more weekend before his life becomes taken up by classes, uniforms, and more boys than even he knows what to do with.    
  
“Did you hear the Dean talking about Glee club?” his mother asks, a knowing look in her eye. She knows exactly what he’s thinking about this school, but she’s determined to play it cool for now. He sometimes hates that he obviously inherited much of his personality from her. He just nods in response.    
  
“Are you going to join then?” she prods.    
  
Sebastian frowns, just a hint, but enough that he thinks he’s probably given himself away. “Of course,” he says cooly.    
  
“Well, once you audition, I imagine,” his mother responds in the dry tone of voice that Sebastian practised fervently once he turned seven.    
  
He raises his eyebrow at her pointedly. “I can’t imagine it’s _hard_ to get into Glee club here, mom. I think I’ll be fine.”   
  
His mother smiles fondly. “That’s my ambitious boy,” she says, and pinches his cheek. Sebastian flinches and throws her off.    
  
“ _God_ , mom,” he says, and it’s _not_ a whiny tone. It’s not.    
  
“Come on, then,” his mother says, and waits for Sebastian to put up his arm so she can slip hers through. “I’ll get you coffee on the way home. One of those ridiculous frothy things you like.”   
  
Sebastian lets his eyes linger on the decor as they walk out the main doors. If it weren’t for the fact that he can’t forget their Midwestern location, Dalton would actually be quite appealing. In the distance he can see boys in sport uniforms lining up around the edge of the playing field, apparently preparing for tryouts for some sport. Sebastian takes in the amount of visible leg and the casual way the boys are jockeying each other around.    
  
Maybe he can find _some_ ways to keep himself occupied while he’s here.    
  
***   
  
Term had started one week ago, so Sebastian is a little behind schedule when he settles into regular life at Dalton. He’s finally worked out all of his classrooms, met and charmed all of his teachers with the exception of Ms Jones, who teaches English, and for some reason doesn’t appear to be that impressed with anything he has to say. He’s met a few boys now who share his classes and he thinks he could sit with them at lunch sometime if he wasn’t so busy trying to catch up on his homework in the library. It takes a lot of effort to look casually decadent, and finishing homework is an integral part of that plan. Especially since he lost two weekday afternoons to the soccer team, where they were pleased to find someone with any type of skill level, especially when he showed how fast he can run when he lets his legs stride to their full capacity.    
  
So when he sees the notice for Warbler auditions, he immediately wonders if he’s already managed to overcommit himself. After all, the Warblers meet another two days per week, plus with occasional lunchtime rehearsals, and that’s not counting the weekend commitments in competition season. Just when he thinks he’s decided to give it a miss -- there’s plenty of opportunity for karaoke in a town like this after all; he’s already discovered the local gay bar lets in minors with awful fake IDs -- he happens across an impromptu performance in the commons room.   
  
He doesn’t even mean to be there. He happens to be walking past when he thinks he can hear a sudden increase in chatter, so he grabs the arm of the closest boxy-blazer boy and asks what’s going on.    
  
“The Warblers are like rock stars here,” the boy enthuses, his eyelashes batting a little as he looks up into Sebastian’s face. “Come on,” he says and pulls him along until they emerge into the commons room where there’s a gathering of boys sprawled across couches, some sitting on the floor, and a group all standing in formation in the middle of the room.    
  
Sebastian’s barely noticed the boy next to him, his height placing him pretty much out of Sebastian’s eyeline and his hair is gelled into some sort of gelatinous mess. He’s got pretty eyes, Sebastian noted absently, before realising that the boy was saying a polite “excuse me” and heading off to lead the group. The excitement in the air is palpable and Sebastian almost gets caught up in the acapella song. They’re talented, especially the boy in the front, but are they worth him committing himself to multiple sessions a week? He enjoys singing, and as he watches the group critically, he thinks he could fit well within them. Plus, a lot of them are _cute_ , now that he’s paying attention. Especially that blond with those legs to his neck. _Nice_.    
  
He slips out before the end -- he’s seen enough to know what to expect, and when he goes home that night he starts poking through his music library trying to find an audition song.    
  
***   
  
He decides on _Glad You Came_ , hoping it will showcase his pop singing skills, quietly resolving to maybe pull something Broadway out later on if needs be. He thinks the performance goes well. He performs for the three council leaders (and trust Dalton to have a democratic system of leadership in _Glee_ club for god’s sake) and a few other Warblers (who don’t have a vote, Wes hastens to tell him), and they smile and applaud when he finishes. He goes outside and finds blond Warbler, Jeff, and tiny hobbit Warbler, Blaine?, waiting for him.    
  
“That was great!” the short one enthuses, his eyes shining in a fashion scarily like a groupie. Sebastian smiles quickly at him before letting his gaze rest on Jeff, not disguising the way his eyes rake up and down his figure. Jeff fidgets a little nervously, but smiles back, and Sebastian counts it as a win.    
  
“I liked your song selection,” Blaine says, and Sebastian stifles a groan.    
  
“Thanks,” he says shortly. He wonders how he can lose Blaine so he can corner Jeff, maybe sneak him into an empty room and see if he’ll let Sebastian check out what he’s hoping is a toned, lean torso under that blazer. Maybe run his hands along his chest a little, soften him up, and then tease him with a light kiss on his jaw.    
  
He blames this fantasy moment for not realising that Jeff is loping off down the hallway, and _fuck_ his legs are so long, leaving Sebastian alone with Blaine.    
  
“So,” Blaine starts, and draws a deep breath. “I _really_ liked your audition.”   
  
“Yeah, you said,” Sebastian replies, a little irritated at how quickly he lost his prey and not afraid to show Blaine.    
  
“Well, I thought maybe we could work on something together. A duet, maybe. I’ve got some great ideas. Our voices would probably harmonise really well. Maybe Friday night? After dinner?”   
  
Blaine’s looking up at him through those surprisingly long eyelashes and Sebastian is stunned to realise he’s being chatted up and he didn’t see it coming at all. This is definitely unlike him. He’s losing his touch. Dalton has made him soft after only a month. He glances up and down the hallway, sees no one (not even Jeff, unfortunately) and then grips Blaine by the shoulders, wincing when Blaine brightens considerably at the touch.    
  
“Look, Blaine, you’re cute but in a hobbity kind of way. And you’re endearing in the way that a younger brother might be. I mean, I’m flattered. But not interested.”    
  
Sebastian smiles, one of his patented grins designed to lessen the pain of a brush off, and strides away. He allows himself a tiny look back over his shoulder and catches Blaine looking at his feet dejectedly, unmoved from where he left him. He feels a twinge of something in his stomach, but then realises he didn’t eat lunch before auditioning. It’s probably just hunger. He’ll stop for coffee and a snack on the way home.    
  
***   
  
The rest of the month passes quickly. He joins the Warblers, and spends a lot of his time in the back row ogling at Jeff’s ass. He heard unfortunate stories that suggest Jeff is actually incredibly straight, so he continues looking at his long legs under his school desk, but also starts introducing himself to other boys. Arthur in his soccer team is gloriously floppy haired and serious and he loves teasing him mercilessly just to see how he reacts. He’s hoping one day the boy will explode with tension and offer to blow him in the locker room. His school work comes along nicely and he even manages to convince a smile out of Ms Jones with his spectacular essay on dystopian fictions and the role of literature in providing microcosms of society.    
  
Things change a little when the Warblers perform off campus for the first time in forever, or something. The Gap Attack, as it gets known as around Dalton, is Blaine’s attempt at serenading some guy. Sebastian chuckles to himself a little at the idea; thinking of Blaine successfully seducing someone makes him think of the time his little brother tried to convince their next door neighbour that skating wasn’t dangerous and then promptly fell over and broke his arm. Needless to say, that burgeoning friendship didn’t go anywhere.    
  
Still, he dutifully learns his part, presses his shirt, and manages to convince Jeff and Nick to ride with him. At the last minute, he gets stuck with Blaine too, who bounces nervously in the back seat the whole way, saying ridiculous things like “What if he doesn’t like it?” Still, it gives Sebastian time to watch Jeff’s legs in the passenger seat as he twists around to reassure Blaine that it will all be fantastic.    
  
The performance is, quite frankly, eye opening. Sebastian snickers when he first sees Jeremiah -- did that guy really think his hair choices through? -- but he quickly loses interest in him, instead unable to take his eyes off Blaine parading around the room. Did he just _wink_? This is the flirtiest song Sebastian’s ever seen, and he saw someone perform _Ride My Pony_ at karaoke once complete with fake sex moves. Suddenly, Sebastian can’t take his eyes off the way Blaine’s mouth quirks wryly on certain lines, the way he swaggers across the floor with a confidence that is so not what he expected out of hobbit Anderson. When Blaine finishes the song and drops the socks on the counter, Sebastian realises he not only missed his final cue (ohhh, and there’s Wes’ glare so he obviously didn’t get away with it), but he’s also not looked at anything but Blaine for the entire song.    
  
This could be an issue.    
  
The ride home is quiet. Sebastian is still a little unsure of what had just happened in his brain during the Gap Attack. Jeff has relinquished the front seat, gesturing Blaine gently in and buckling his seatbelt for him before Blaine snaps, “I’m not an invalid.” It takes not even a minute for him to contritely glance over the headrest and apologise, although Jeff just waves it off.    
  
“Don’t worry about it dude. It’s uhh, been a big day.”   
  
Blaine sighs and Sebastian flicks a glance over, enough to see Blaine rest his head on his arm and hear his quiet groan.   
  
“What a douche,” Sebastian says fiercely, surprising himself with the words. For some reason, he just wants to wipe that desolate expression off Blaine’s face.    
  
“It’s my fault,” Blaine says sadly. “I just made it all up in my head.”   
  
Nick scoffs in the background. “You guys went for coffee; that means something.”   
  
Blaine shakes his head firmly. “No, it really doesn’t. I think I just saw what I wanted to see. I tend to do that a little bit,” he says, his eyes flicking almost imperceptibly towards Sebastian.    
  
Sebastian swallows at that, all too aware suddenly how condescending his brush off had been. Jesus, had he really called Blaine a hobbit to his _face_? What the hell had he been thinking?   
  
Blaine crosses his legs awkwardly in the front seat, shifting around uncomfortably. Finally he seems to just give up and starts to wriggle out of his blazer, folding it around his seatbelt until he could pull it off completely and chucking it onto the back seat. Then he roughly unbuttons his cuffs and rolls his shirt sleeves up haphazardly, as if he is overcome with sudden heat. Humiliation will do that to a man.    
  
“I just feel so stupid,” he groans, covering his face with his hands.    
  
Sebastian listens to Jeff and Nick making sympathetic noises in the back of the car, Jeff even reaching a hand around to rub Blaine’s shoulders. Usually, the sight of Jeff’s long limbs would be enough to peak Sebastian’s interest but this time, he finds he can’t take his eyes off Blaine’s tanned, muscular forearms. Sebastian decides he wants to feel those wrapped around him. Or under his mouth while he kisses his way up Blaine’s body.    
  
He is pulled from his reverie by the sound of Blaine dejectedly saying, “Would you guys mind if I skipped practice today?”    
  
“What?” Sebastian asks, too sharply in the confines of the car.    
  
Blaine looks over at him, confusion clear on his face. “I just don’t really feel up to it,” he says quietly. “Not today.”   
  
Sebastian feels a mulish stubbornness settle in his chest. “That’s ridiculous,” he says firmly. “You need to get it out of your system. You should lead us in some poppy top 40 hit and take your mind off things.”    
  
He lets his eyes wander off the road for a moment to stare back at Blaine. “We could do a duet?” he offers, suddenly aware that his stomach is clenching up on itself and he’s anxiously waiting for a response. Blaine just frowns and says quietly, “Thanks, but I don’t think so.”   
  
Sebastian tries to keep his sigh inaudible, and his eyes fixed on the road. He hopes Blaine can’t see the set to his jaw. He doesn’t like rejection, of which this is clearly an example. When he pulls up outside Dalton, Blaine jumps from the car and hurries inside, his shoulders hunched. Sebastian watches him go, leaning up against the car door. Jeff walks past with his hands in his jacket pockets, pulling his blazer tight across his ass -- a pose that until recently could entice Sebastian into casually following Jeff around the school. Today though, he finds himself drawn back to the dejection in Blaine’s body language as he takes the steps two at a time and disappears from view. It is far from the confident, sexy Blaine who had flirted via song in a shopping mall in Lima not even an hour before. Sebastian decides he wants to get that Blaine back.    
  
He is striding up the stairs before he realises it. Oh god. He is _concerned_ for Blaine. He wants Blaine to feel _better_. And, even more terrifying, it appears he was prioritising this over the possibility of sex.    
  
_ Fuck _ .    
  
***   
  
It isn’t even a week later when Sebastian makes one of his poorest decisions since coming to Dalton. He is in the locker rooms after soccer practice when Arthur steps out of the showers in only his towel. This is, rather unfortunately Sebastian thinks, a rare occurrence because Arthur usually has his clothes hung over the shower cubicle so he can dress in discretion. But not today. Instead, Arthur comes out of the shower with his pale chest on display, his stomach toned and trim just the way Sebastian likes. He can’t help if it his eyes lingered a little, he is only human after all. And Arthur has been teasing him like this since the start of semester. Still, he’s rather surprised when Arthur walks over to him, right up into his space, leans in and says, “I see you looking at me.”    
  
Sebastian’s eyes flick up to meet his, and whatever Arthur sees there is confirmation enough because in the next minute they’re kissing, and _fuck_ , it’s good -- great really, it’s been a long time for Sebastian, despite weekends at Scandals because no one in this awful town is really any use, but Arthur’s tongue is slippery and lovely and he’s obviously done this before.    
  
At least, that’s what Sebastian assumes, and he is therefore more than a little shocked when he gently places a hand on Arthur’s abs, delighting in the feel of the muscles clenching under his touch, and Arthur responds by gasping loudly and running out of the room.    
  
It takes less than four hours for the rumour to spread. Apparently, Sebastian Smythe de-virginised someone from the soccer team in the locker room. Apparently, Sebastian Smythe is a bit of a slut.    
  
***   
  
Sebastian spends a lot of time after that in the library. He isn’t one to shy away from confrontation, and he certainly doesn’t, getting detention after school twice in one week after nearly coming to blows in the hallway. Warbler practice becomes his only retreat after he is asked to sit out the next few soccer games for “indiscreet conduct” in the locker rooms. It’s so unfair he just wanted to scream. Luckily it’s coming up to competition season, so the Warblers are busy, and they don’t mind when Sebastian starts to throw suggestions around. That said, he spends most rehearsals getting his toes lightly stepped on by Thad, who appears to have a personal vendetta against him. On one memorable occasion, he swaps out Sebastian’s music so he starts singing the wrong song. Blaine takes pity on him though and offers to share, which only makes Thad glare even harder for the rest of the practice, and leaves Sebastian with his uniform trousers too tight after sitting pressed against Blaine’s strong thigh for the better part of two hours.    
  
Things with Blaine have plateaued. After the Gap Attack and Sebastian’s sudden realisation that underneath the gel and the blazer there was a surprisingly gorgeous boy who seemed to be gorgeously innocent in one breath and incredibly sexy in the next, they haven’t really spent a lot of time together. Sebastian has tried -- he’d invited Blaine to coffee numerous times, asked for help with performances -- and instead he’d received brush off after brush off, all couched in incredibly polite language but clearly intended as rejections.    
  
Then, the rumour began. Some of the Warblers shied away from being left alone in rooms with him, like he was this predator of virgin flesh who could smell their inexperience. Those boys he ignored. Blaine’s reaction somehow was a million times worse. He started looking at Sebastian with these wounded eyes, as if he’d done something to offend Blaine personally. It makes Sebastian ache wishing that things were different. On particularly painful nights he thinks that Blaine’s disappointment shows he truly had been hurt when Sebastian brushed him off all those weeks ago. That when he put himself out there and made a move (a really quite gorgeous move, now that Sebastian thought about it), he’d legitimately wanted to get to know Sebastian better.    
  
And now he does. And he doesn’t like what he knows.    
  
Those times are when Sebastian curls himself into his sheets and rubs his stomach, trying vainly to sooth away the physical ache. He thinks this must be what it’s like to feel regret.    
  
***   
  
Time passes. Sebastian finds himself enjoying his English class -- the first class he’s ever legitimately enjoyed for the content rather than his fellow students or his teacher. He mentions this, off-hand, to his mother, who quirks an eyebrow and says something about the Midwest apparently agreeing with him. He grits his jaw and mumbles “never mind,” ignoring her cackling laughter as he takes his plate into the kitchen.    
  
That night, he lets himself think of Blaine, imagines his golden skin underneath his as he presses him gently into the mattress. Thinks about the line of his throat when Blaine throws his head back, thinks about the rocking of their hips when they move together, lets the image of Blaine’s face scrunched up in pleasure -- not unlike when he’s singing -- tip him over the edge until he’s coming into his hand, shivering and panting. _No more_ , he tells himself firmly, wiping himself off with his t-shirt. But when he falls asleep that night he dreams of Blaine with him in Paris, at his favourite cafe, their legs entwined under the table while Blaine flirts with him over his cup of coffee.    
  
When he sees Blaine at school that day -- all too conscious of his slightly wild hair and mismatched socks after wallowing in bed too long once he’d realised he had been dreaming about _a date_ , for god’s sake -- he actually blushes, feels the blood rush to his cheeks, as Blaine straightens his collar. This boy, this normal, short, irritating _boy_ has him dreaming of dates and blushing like a schoolgirl. Sebastian nods goodbye to Blaine, thinking forcefully that he _hates_ himself right now.   
  
That night, when he tries to get himself off thinking of the muscular thighs of Jeff’s dancing legs, it takes him nearly fifteen minutes to realise he’s just loosely holding his cock in hand, not even stroking. Instead, he’s been considering where he might best serenade Blaine with the Warblers backing him up.    
  
“Fuck,” he mumbles, and then he’s thinking about Blaine’s face when he realises it’s Sebastian singing to him, and the way he’d look at him when Sebastian leads him away from the crowd afterwards. The way he’d say, “Sebastian, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” and then lean in to kiss his cheek. But Sebastian would grip his hand tightly and turn his head so that their lips met instead and it feels like nothing he’s ever thought of before, his heart pounding so hard he’s sure everyone can hear it. And then Blaine pulls back, his eyes wide but fond, and he smiles, slow and sweet, and--   
  
“ _Uhhh_ ,” Sebastian groans and comes.    
  
Fantasising about kissing means he has reached a new low.    
  
***    
  
Sebastian spends the next week trailing Blaine like a puppy. He buys coffee, watches closely as Blaine thanks him and tries to see anything that looks like _more than friends_ in his eyes. He offers rides, and lies when Blaine asks if he minds taking Nick too because they’re hanging out that day. He pesters Blaine with Warbler related questions, including, memorably, asking for help with the choreography for Regionals.    
  
“Sebastian, of course I’ll help you,” Blaine says, hefting his bag over his shoulder while Sebastian ignores the impulse to take it for him. “But I must admit, I didn’t think you were having that much trouble.”   
  
Sebastian hides a grimace. “Um, well--,” he curses his newfound weakness for curly haired, beautiful boys and wonders where his ability to smooth talk disappeared to. “It’s just the turn, mostly. I keep going the wrong way.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes at himself. This is surely the most pathetic he has ever been in his _life_.    
  
Blaine nods, if a little doubtfully, and gestures them into an empty classroom. “Well, come on then. Let’s get this done with.”    
  
Sebastian’s head jerks back a little at the surprising lack of warmth in Blaine’s tone. He might be stuck in a weird wooing phase, but he still has his pride. Most of his pride, anyway.    
  
“Look,” he says, uncertain now at the awkwardness between them. “Don’t worry about it. You’re obviously busy, and I’ll just ask one of the others to help me later.” He realises he’s twisting his hands together in a particularly non-Sebastian Smythe fashion and quickly stills the movement. _Jesus_. This is a disaster. Blaine has clearly moved on if he had ever been interested to begin with. He can’t say he didn’t try.    
  
Blaine shifts from foot to foot, sighs, and then looks Sebastian directly in the eye.    
  
“Just, don’t mess with me, okay?” he says, voice soft and quite removed from the usual Blaine Warbler tone.    
  
Sebastian blinks, then crosses his arms defensively. “Don’t mess with you?” he asks incredulously. “You think I’m throwing myself at you to _mess_ with you?”    
  
He huffs out a shocked laugh. How did it get to this? His reputation’s a mess, he’s barely made any friends beyond Blaine and a few other Warblers, and his mother thinks he’s gone insane because he defended Dalton and _Ohio_ to her.    
  
“You undoubtedly haven’t noticed,” he says, leaning down to emphasise the height difference between them, and pointedly ignoring how long Blaine’s eyelashes look when he gets this close to them, “but this isn’t exactly what I wanted for my life. A boys school with an ugly uniform that hides the very _few_ asses worth looking at? Soft shoeing in the background while we harmonise some pop songs in my spare time? Thinking that _wooing_ the only person who seems to see who I really am would actually work?”    
  
Sebastian shakes his head and tears his gaze away from Blaine’s face. “Clearly it won’t work. And I was an idiot to think it might.” He starts to walk away, unwilling to look at Blaine any longer, unable to handle the pity that would be obvious there. “And just for the record?” he says over his shoulder. “I can dance better than any of you.”   
  
His indignant fury takes him all the way to his locker where he throws his books in and storms off. There’s no way he’s sitting through the rest of the day like this, watching the back of Blaine’s beautiful-- no, _stupid_ head. Sebastian isn’t one to give up, but he does start to consider how he might convince his mother that he needs to leave this place. Maybe it would be worth giving up his car. He lets himself briefly consider if Blaine would miss him when he left before firmly shaking his head. _Enough_. He’s never been the type to moon over a boy with a lovestruck look on his face, and he won’t start now.    
  
He pulls open his car door and slings his bag onto the back seat. He’s mostly planning on waiting in the parking lot for a little while, killing some time so his mom won’t suspect he’s skiving off. That plan disappears when Blaine taps on his window and startles him so badly he nearly drops the soda can he just opened.    
  
“Jesus!” he shouts, and takes a moment to collect himself. He tries not to notice the way Blaine’s hair is uncurling a little at the nape of his neck, and how he’s breathing heavily, like he just ran out here.    
  
Blaine taps louder.    
  
“Fine,” Sebastian grumbles, and winds the window down. “What do you want?” he asks, keeping his gaze forward. He’s fallen into the trap that is Blaine Anderson’s forgiveness-seeking eyes before. And he won’t do it again.    
  
“Can I talk to you?”    
  
Sebastian sighs. “Sure.”   
  
Blaine hesitates. “Can I sit?”    
  
Sebastian considers shaking his head, forcing Blaine to stand out there and keep his distance. He feels his mouth flatten into an undoubtedly unflattering line and he knows he’s going to relent.    
  
“Alright,” he says, and clicks the doors open. Blaine walks around the other side and slides gracefully into the passenger seat. _What a jerk_.    
  
Sebastian stares ahead, doesn’t let himself watch as Blaine gets in. He’s giving him nothing.    
  
Blaine takes a deep breath. “Sebastian, I just wanted to apologise.”    
  
Sebastian’s head snaps around, his eyes wide with surprise. “What?” he asks, his voice slightly hoarse.    
  
“God,” Blaine looks embarrassed, the most flustered Sebastian’s ever seen, with colour in his cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t?”   
  
“Why would you?” Sebastian asks, and he knows he sounds incredulous, ridiculously so, but he can’t seem to regain his composure.    
  
Blaine, for his part, looks equally confused and uncomfortable. “I accused you of, uhh, messing with me. And you--, well, you _weren’t_.”    
  
Sebastian doesn’t know what to do with someone who is acknowledging his mistakes. He doesn’t know how to look at Blaine, feels claustrophobic in the tight confines of the car. He wants to crank his window, doesn’t want to make it obvious that he is _so_ far from his comfort zone. For god’s sake, why would anyone want to subject themselves to the mess that was _feelings_?    
  
“Uh, no. I wasn’t. I’m... not,” Sebastian says quietly.    
  
“Good,” Blaine says, whispers almost. And then turns sharply in his seat so that he’s facing Sebastian straight on. “Are you busy tomorrow?” he asks.    
  
Sebastian blinks quickly and tries to stop the smile that wants to creep onto his face. “I have brunch with my family in the morning but I’m free after that?”    
  
Blaine smiles then, wide and free in a way Sebastian hasn’t seen for a while. “Will you pick me up for our date then?”    
  
Sebastian huffs out a choked laugh. “Seriously?”    
  
Blaine quirks an eyebrow and his smile is now more of a smirk. It’s cheeky. It suits him. “I’ll see you at three, Mr Smythe. I’ll wear something nice.”   
  
Then he _winks_ , and is out of the car and halfway back to the stairs before Sebastian can catch his breath. He waits until Blaine disappears from view before thumping a hand against the steering wheel in celebration.    
  
_ Fuck _ . Now, he has to prepare a date.    
  
***   
  
Brunch the next day is an exercise in surviving hell. Sebastian’s subtle questions to his mother have somehow turned into his mom and brother interrogating him. He stuffs pancakes into his mouth, barely stopping for breath, and pointedly ignores his brother’s constant queries about whether Blaine is any good at video games and if he can ask whenever Blaine comes over. He tries not to blush when his mother coos at him, saying “My boy, growing up at last,” in a mocking tone before she breaks into obnoxious laughter.    
  
He can’t get home fast enough. It’s 11:00, and it should be more than enough time to get organised. He scavenges in the pantry, pulls things together for some type of lame picnic. He sneaks his mother’s tartan rug from the living room and bundles it into his car before she notices. He even manages to grab a bottle of champagne from the fridge while his mother is cackling down the phone to one of her friends.    
  
Sebastian spends a ridiculous amount of time getting ready, smoothing his hair down and putting on his nicest shirt. He knows these pants make his ass look great and he only hopes Blaine might notice. He nearly makes it out the door before his mother grabs his arm and _takes a photo_ before sending him off with a kiss on each cheek. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but it’s messy and uncertain, and he doesn’t like feeling less than sure-footed. It isn’t until he sees Blaine, balancing on the curb outside his house and wearing a bowtie with his checked shirt and highwater pants, that his stomach starts to settle. This is what he wanted, after all, and he doesn’t try to stop the grin on his face when Blaine sees him and waves openly.    
  
The drive to the park is nerve-wracking, his foot working awkwardly against the pedals, and he almost stalls at one point. It’s all worth it though when Blaine laughs at his blanket, feeds him a strawberry, and shares the champagne with him in large gulps out of the bottle. Sebastian watches him giggle at the bubbles in his nose and thinks this could be the happiest he’s ever felt.    
  
Then, Blaine pushes himself into Sebastian’s lap, his hands burning where they’re touching his shoulders and his legs awkwardly squashed up against his.    
  
“I’m so glad you finally worked this out,” Blaine says, his eyes clear and bright, and Sebastian can’t help but smile back before focusing on his words.    
  
“Hang on, what?” he asks incredulously.    
  
Blaine smiles and leans in even closer, their breath mingling. Sebastian can’t stop his hand from reaching up and tugging on Blaine’s curls, lovely and loose in a way he hasn’t seen before. They’re gorgeous. _He’s_ gorgeous.    
  
“I can’t believe I had to wait so long,” Blaine says. “You’re incredibly dense, you know that?”   
  
Sebastian snorts. Not the most elegant sound when the boy he wants more than anything is in his lap, but there it is. He wants to feel shocked, betrayed even. Instead, he says “ Lucky I’m not the one waiting,” and presses their mouths together.    
  
Blaine moans almost immediately, his hands grasping at Sebastian’s shirt, and he licks dirtily into Sebastian’s mouth in a way he hadn’t expected from the dapper Dalton boy. It’s wet and lovely and _fantastic_ , and he’s wrapped his arms around Blaine before he even realises it. It’s unlike any kiss he’s had before -- not because Blaine’s the most technical kisser; in fact he’s sloppy and uncontrolled -- but because Sebastian’s _feeling_ so much, his heart is pounding and his cheeks are flushed, and Blaine’s a livewire in his arms and obviously _this_ is what people talk about when they mean kissing can be as good as sex.    
  
He’s panting by the time they separate and Blaine’s managed to pull the top two buttons of his shirt undone. For his part, Sebastian has untucked Blaine’s shirt from his pants and has felt that silky skin underneath his hands. It’s intoxicating, feeling the glide of tanned skin under his fingers. He can’t wait to do it again.    
  
“So, uh, does this mean we’re dating?” Sebastian asks, wincing when his voice cracks a little on the last word.    
  
Blaine throws back his head and laughs, and Sebastian watches the long line of his exposed throat.    
  
“Yeah,” Blaine says breathlessly. “You’re my boyfriend now, Sebastian. Just try and get out of it.”   
  
“Boyfriends,” Sebastian repeats stupidly, and then tackles Blaine across the blanket, sprawling himself along Blaine’s body, relishing the feel of the other boy squirming underneath him. “Okay,” he murmurs, watching Blaine’s eyes blink slowly. “Mmm, _okay_.”


End file.
